Janus
by HelixForward
Summary: "Annabeth...  It'll be like old times.  No more Kronos.  No more pain.  No more lies.  Run away with me… please?" I could save him from himself… only I could save him now."Annabeth?" It was as if I had one of Janus' heads on each shoulder.


**Disclaimer:  
><strong>I do not own anything about the Percy Jackson & The Olympian book series. Not the plot, not the places, not the characters, etc. They all belong to the wonderful Rick Riordan and I do not in any way, shape, or form intend to pass them off as my own.

**Author's Note:  
><strong>I have no excuse for not writing. I am sorry but my heart has just not been into it lately. This is not my best, but I hope that you will somewhat enjoy it.  
>The Last Olympian stated that when Luke went to Annabeth and asked her to runaway with him, he came scared and left angry. I can't imagine that. I think Luke wouldn't have liked Annabeth's decision, obviously, but he respected and could understand it on some level. I think he would have simply been depressed. This is how I imagine their meeting took place.<br>Also, should I make a second chapter in Luke's point-of-view on the meeting? Let me know; this is my first Percy Jackson fic.  
>If you have any questions andor comments please leave them in a review. Beneficial criticism, whether it is good or bad, is welcome. If you spot any grammar errors please notify me as well; I'm not the best whenever it comes to proof reading. Thank you for reading! =]  
>- Kelly<p>

**Janus  
><strong>~** A Luke Castellan and Annabeth Chase One Shot**~  
><em>As told from Annabeth's point-of-view…<em>

"No, no, no," I mumbled to myself, unconsciously furrowing my brow. "This is all wrong…."

Erase, erase, and fling pencil down: it was a nice pattern I had developed.

Sighing, I tore out and crumpled up yet another piece of notebook paper and threw it toward the general direction of the waste bin behind me. Without glancing over my shoulder it magically bounced off of my globe and actually landed in the container unlike my previous attempts lying scattered across the hardwood. My bed wasn't made despite the fact it was nearly half-past midnight and a good deal of my books that belonged on their shelves were spread throughout my room under the wrinkly papers.

Likewise to my room, I was fully aware that I looked disheveled as well. I hadn't showered in a couple of days, brushed my hair in twenty-four hours, and remained in my owl decorated pajamas. Huge bags lined below my grey eyes that seemed to permanently be held wide open - I hadn't had more than ten hours of sleep in the past week.

Designing architecture took over my entire life. Period. I didn't care what my room looked like; I didn't care about my own appearance. My only biggest concern, next to not attracting any monsters, was drawing and designing building after building: Domes, Cathedrals, Skyscrapers, Colonial Houses, and Bungalows.

For the whole summer, I know that I looked and acted insane. I sometimes skipped days without eating and was constantly talking to no one. That is the first sign of craziness right?

I slumped down over the notebook and closed my eyes. Who knew it was so difficult to make a variation of an A-Framed House look asymmetrically modern? "It is just impossible to make it look… good."

"Anything is possible Annabeth," a familiar deep voice echoed behind me.

Chills, good and bad, ran down my spine at the sound of the timbre that once gave me reassurance. I unfortunately knew who that voice belonged to and I didn't hear or see him coming. Snapping my head around and jumping out my office chair, my wide eyes met blue ones that had dark circles to rival my own.

Maybe, hopefully, this was just an episode of my own madness. He wasn't really standing there by my open window. He didn't actually use the oak tree to climb up here. He definitely was not looking at me right now, arms crossed and leaning against the wallpaper.

Finally finding my voice, I stuttered out, "L-Luke?"

"Annabeth," he retorted mockingly, a sheepish smile working its way onto his features but not reaching his eyes.

Shit. He answered. This was real.

We began a standoff, just staring at and taking each other in. Luke looked older now, as in a decade older. Lines were etched in his face and his once constant smirk was gone, replaced with a down cornered frown. His flaxen hair was unkempt and his red t-shirt was uncaringly inside out .He looked depressed. He looked crazy. He didn't look anything like the humorous, playful person from my childhood.

"Still working on architecture I see," he murmured stepping out of the shadows, closer to me. Naturally, I took a step back, closer to my chair. He let out a shallow chuckle at the motion and casually, lightly scratched the side of his neck.

I didn't know how he knew I had been slaying over building outlines. A part of me never wanted to find out the answer, although I could guess it: he had been spying on me for some time.

"Why are you here?" I questioned, keeping my distance physically and emotionally.

Luke didn't retort right away. He ignored my stance and strolled beside of me. Picking up some of my blueprints, he scanned trough them. Nodding his head and pursing he lips in approval, he gently set them down one-by-one onto my pine desk. Halfway through the stack, he looked me in the eye, "I think they're excellent."

Getting a compliment from Luke, no matter whom you are, meant that you were at least somewhat decent. I felt my cheeks grow hot and realized my fists were involuntarily balled. Finding my courage, I tossed my hair out of my face and crossed my arms. I said in a much quieter tone than I had meant to, "I don't care what you think." A lie.

He ignored my comment as if I were a small child and continued to gaze at my work. He kept one in front of the others and once he was finished looking through the papers, he held that one in front of him. "I like this one," he stated plainly. Studying it for a little longer, he placed it facing out from him as if I had never seen it before. He pointed to how each of the balconies were perfectly straight on the unlined paper. Smiling he said more than asked, "You didn't use a ruler or protractor."

I simply gazed at him, unblinking.

"That's talent Annabeth."

I began to grow angry at his avoidance of my inquiry. Scowling I demanded, "Cut the crap. What are you doing here?"

Luke raised an already upturned eyebrow, "Damn. When did little Annabeth grow so hostile towards an old friend? That's not like you."

I scoffed, "Friend. Do you even know the meaning of the word Luke? And it w_asn't_ like you to go and be a backstabbing coward."

His lips quickly became a grim line and I knew I had struck a deep nerve. His orbs pierced into mine and he swallowed. Surprisingly gently, he placed down the blueprint and squared he shoulders. In a clear, grave voice he said, "Five minutes. That's all."

I shrugged at his request and he sat down at the edge of my bed. Leaning forward and clasping his hands between his knees, he looked up at me. Clearing his throat he began, "It's… it's getting harder Annabeth."

"Like my life has been a walk in the park?"

He grimaced at my livid words, "No… I never said that nor did I hint that…. Kronos is getting stronger. He is getting stronger and angrier. He is growing more impatient everyday. He is… he's going to use me like a pawn Annabeth. He's going to treat me as if I'm just another step on the ladder."

I shook my head, "But aren't you? I swear Luke everyone has already seen that but you."

He rubbed both of his eyes with one hand simultaneously, his index on the left and thumb on the right. He scrunched his mouth, "I suppose I am. However whenever it's your turn to be stepped on, it isn't very enjoyable…. He…." Luke trailed off and sighed. "Not only will he be the death of you, but he will be the death of me."

I could not believe the bull he was trying to feed me, "And you come here to me for a pity vote because you are finally realizing this? Unlikely."

"No, I don't want pity," he replied. "I want help. You can help me Annabeth. You can make everything better. We could be invincible together - unstoppable. We won't have to worry about anything in the universe."

"What the name of Hades are you saying Luke?" I asked, shaking my head in disbelief.

Exhaling a big breath of air, Luke reached out for my hand. I snatched it away from him and furrowed my eyebrows. He slowly returned his hand to his knee, "Annabeth... It'll be like old times. No more Kronos. No more pain. No more lies. Run away with me… please?"

Did he… did he seriously just ask me that? Perhaps my sleep deprived mind only thought I heard those words I had wanted to hear for such a long time. I wanted to flee from the seemingly simple yes or no question; I wanted to run into Luke's arms forgiving him for everything. I could stop Kronos' evil brainwashing and have my turn to return the favor of protecting him. I could excuse him from acting on survival instinct and not betrayal of the gods. I could save him from himself… only I could save him now.

"Annabeth?" he pressed, concerned at my space-out, awaiting my answer. "It'll be better than old times. I'm old enough to get a job now; we could get a nice place to stay. No dark alleys, no sleeping on top of dumpsters."

It was as if I had one of Janus' heads on each shoulder.

I thought of everyone I personally knew and admired: Dad, Mom, the other gods, Grover, Chiron, Tyson, and _Percy._ Oh gods, what would Percy above everyone else think if I were to go with Luke? That I am a coward. That I took the easy way out. That I'm a traitor. That I'm a lying, conniving bitch who isn't worth even a tenth of a Golden Drachma. I would purely be another lost demigod…. On the run from everyone again…. Not needing anything but Luke, the clothes on my back, and stolen food he provided for us.

No, I could not do this. I would not do this. The children of Athena are wise and I will not allow myself to be so easily fooled by a little sweet talk. Despite how much I cared for Luke, I cared for other people even more. Going with him just wasn't worth the consequences. If you love something, you should set it free. Luke had made his own poor decisions; call me selfish, but in present times I cannot suffer for them.

"You… you should go Luke," I swallowed shakily before I could change my mind for the worse.

Upon my invitation of leave, Luke sighed and hung his head so his hair fell over his eyes and scar, forming a shadow across his nose. He had tried and he had failed. Biting his thin lip he brought his head up and nodded curtly, his eyes cold and harsh. He was searching me over one last time as if trying to memorize by current wild appearance. He turned his jaw to gaze out the window he silently came through.

Without even facing me he said as he rose from my bed, "Right. Sorry to bother you Annabeth."

He went over to window, grasped the pane and stood there for about ten seconds. Then he skillfully jumped out onto the oak. And he was gone without a trace, out of the opening and into the humid San Francisco night air. I could only see darkness, not a flash of blonde hair or tan skin to be seen.

What had I done?

I could have stopped Luke and made him whole again. This was my one chance to rescue him and I completely stomped on the concept. This was sign, a sign that I was to help him. A sign that we were meant to travel together. How could I have done this to him? Could he not see that it hurt me to refuse him? Throughout his entire life, he has believed that no one, not even his own father, loves him. How, especially now, could he not think the same of me?

No… I wasn't in love with Luke. Love, even though it has its many downs, is supposed to make people happy; Luke made me cry, second guess myself, and wallow in the past. The thought that someone would be my big brother, would take me into his family, and would protect me caused me happiness. That was what I was in love with - the image that Luke was a truthful, all-powerful superhero. But that was just a lie. It was a lie that I had somehow forced myself to accept to give me comfort of being lonely, scared, young, and broken. That lie was formed nearly eight years ago. I had finally discovered the truth: I was merely in love with _idea_ of Luke, not him as a being.

With a quivering hand, I shredded the blueprint of the Victorian House Luke admired and let it fall to the floor. I would draw again tomorrow. For now, I craved sleep. Stumbling still in shock, I made my way over to my blue quilted bed. Not bothering to turn off the lights, I pulled the comforter over my head as I lie on my side and cried myself into a much needed, deserved dreamless sleep.

Let's hope I did the right thing. And let's hope that the lack of confusing, terrifying dreams was a gift from the gods for the choice.


End file.
